


Step Up

by poisonparty



Series: love notes [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cuddling, F/M, M/M, Pre-Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sort of Underage, sex ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 11:32:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17099807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonparty/pseuds/poisonparty
Summary: Dean never thought Sex Ed could be so boring.





	Step Up

**Author's Note:**

> okay, underage warning: dean is fifteen and has a lot of inner monologue thoughts about sex and describes some sex acts he's participated in, but almost everything is pretty non-explicit. some more is in the end notes

Cas is sitting on a stool at the island in his kitchen, lazily spinning back and forth, and he’s got that sort-of-pathetic, sort-of-despondent look on his face that means he’s edging into crazy territory. Dean wants to hug him so tight he explodes, but Cas probably wouldn’t like that. So Dean just touches a hand to the flat space between Cas’s shoulder blades--Cas presses back into it--and sits down beside him.

 

Fucking Chuck. He’s been gone a week this time, and Dean’s pretty sure that Cas hasn’t heard anything from him beyond the note he left on the counter.  _ Be back soon, don’t spend it all in one place _ , with three twenties beside it. Dean’s an expert in deadbeat dads, but Chuck really takes the cake. He’s such a fucking flake.

 

“You didn’t have to make dinner, Dean,” Cas says, poking at his pasta. Like it’s that hard to make. But poor Cas could probably manage to burn water. Dean had though toast would be pretty straightforward, but he’s seen Cas fuck it up in what is now referred to as simply The Incident.

 

Dean rolls his eyes and shakes his head, gives Cas an indulgent little smile--he knows he didn’t have to make dinner. But what was he gonna do, let Cas starve? No. It’s bad enough he didn’t find out Chuck was gone for two full days. Sam had wanted to go fishing over the weekend, so they went. And Dean loves Sam, okay? Pretty much more than anybody. But Cas is his favorite person, favorite everything, and even thinking about the two days before he swooped to the rescue with some rice and beans is enough to make his heart break a little.

 

In summation: Chuck is the worst.

 

“Of course I did,” Dean says. “I’m not gonna let you starve. Sam and dad are happy with pizza. You, my friend, need a little home cooking sometimes.”

 

Cas aims his big doleful eyes at Dean and smiles a little. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

 

“Anytime, buddy,” he says softly, and moves to ruffle Cas’s hair a little bit. Cas leans into the touch like a particularly needy cat. “Why don’t you finish your food?”

 

Cas nods and spins some spaghetti around his fork, slowly, and chews, slowly. Sometimes Cas moves like he’s underwater. But he’s got a big goofy smile on his face, and it’s almost enough to sew back up the cracks in Dean’s heart.

 

“Okay,” Cas announces once he’s finished his dinner, “I have an English paper that I need to do some work on, and I know you haven’t done any of that--”

 

“Cas,” Dean says, making sure to use his extra-gruff voice. Sometimes it sounds kind of authoritative. “That paper isn’t due for another week, and I don’t give a shit about my own work. You look like you’re gonna pass out at the table.”

 

“I didn’t sleep that well last night,” Cas admits, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sweater. The  _ without you _ goes unsaid, though Dean knows Cas would never even  _ think _ to say it. He hears it loud and clear, though. Last night was the one night he hasn’t spent with Cas since he found out about fucking Chuck. Sam had some math homework he needed help with, and when he was done he wanted to cuddle with Cas, really--but he fell asleep at the kitchen table.

 

“It’s okay, no one cares if we go to bed now.”

 

“You don’t...you don’t have to stay, you know. I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

 

“I don’t, Cas.”

 

“Promise?” Cas’s eyes are huge and breakable looking. God, Dean is helpless. Those things might as well be nuclear weapons.

 

“I promise,” Dean says solemnly.

 

Less than an hour later, Cas is curled up in his favorite position--Dean thinks it makes him feel safe. They’re curled on their sides facing each other, arms slung around each other’s waists, with Cas’s head tucked under Dean’s chin. Their knees usually knock together, which is good, since Dean can’t seem to trust his dick around anyone anymore, especially Cas. But he’s fifteen, so whatever.

 

Cas makes a little sleepy noise and burrows further against Dean, pushing a leg between Dean’s. Dean rolls a little onto his back and Cas follows, his nose right up against Dean’s collarbone and huffing out little breaths at even intervals. Dean presses a barely-there kiss into Cas’s unruly hair and sighs--he’s finally asleep. Dean can breathe again.

 

*

 

If someone would have told Dean last year just how boring Sex Ed is, he would have laughed in their face. How could sex possibly be boring?

 

But now that he’s experiencing it? He’s worried that his brain is melting. The only interesting thing about this class is Cas, because his face has been red since the first time Mr. Carroll said “penetrate,” and has just continued to get redder. And a blushing Castiel is one of Dean’s favorite Castiels.

 

Who even knows what Cas is so red about, anyway. Dean has showed him porn a few times, some magazines he stole from his dad--which, okay, gross. But he’s not risking sacrificing the family computer to viruses just to get off. He’s got better mental material than that. Besides, some of those magazines were pretty kinky. He didn’t show those to Cas; the poor guy blushed so much at a pair of tits that Dean thought he was gonna pass out. He’s saving the crazy BDSM stuff for later.

 

The most boring thing about Sex Ed though, is how un-thorough it is. How hard is it to figure out how to fuck a girl? Insert tab a into slot b, whatever. What Dean wants to know is how to fuck  _ Cas _ .

 

Mr. Carroll is going on and on about safe sex. Condoms, yeah. Dean’s tried jerking off with them a few times, but it kind of sucks. He wants to come all over Cas, anyway. Or just...near Cas. That’d be good too. Even just thinking about Cas, except--well, he does that plenty anyway.

 

“Doesn’t it feel better without one?” some jackass in the back of the class yells.

 

“Not with the threat of STDs stuck in your head,” Mr. Carroll says dryly. “Now, there are a few ways to have sex--”

 

Dean tunes him out, because boring Mr. Carroll is never going to tell him how to bone down with Cas. Mr. Carroll has been married for like forty years, wears a bowtie, and probably has scheduled missionary with his wife once a week. How. Fucking. Boring.

 

Though, Dean’s never had sex. He’s done some stuff, but he’s only fifteen, so whatever. 

 

Dean’s not exactly keeping his thing for Cas secret. But Cas seems way less into sex-related stuff than Dean. The rest of the boys in their circle never seem to shut up about girls, and Dean gets it, okay? Boobs are awesome. But Cas is even more awesome.

 

Dean is content to wait, though. Cas will figure things out eventually.

 

*

 

God, Ash can be so fucking dumb for a genius. Lunch started right after Sex Ed, and Ash hasn’t shut up about some girl he apparently hooked up with when he went to Maine with his dad, which--sure. Maybe the rest of their dumbass friends believe him, but Dean likes to live in the real world.

 

“You should have seen her tits, man, out to fuckin’  _ here _ \--”

 

Dean is pretty sure no girl with tits out to here is going to touch Ash, and that they are probably at least five years older. Whatever. Dean’s seen tits--he’s squeezed them, sucked on them, bit them, and one freaky girl at a bar he snuck into let him smack her tits. She squeaked each time he hit one, but all he could think about was how awesome it would be if Cas had tits for him to smack. Cas has nipples, though. He could bite those.

 

“--you should’ve seen them, seriously--”

 

Cas shifts in his seat a little, a faint blush across the bridge of his nose--he’s so fucking cute--and he plays with the hem of his sweater a little. All classic signs of nervous Cas. Dean lightly touches the wing of Cas’s left shoulder blade and says, “You gonna see her again?”

 

“Hell no, man! I ain’t getting tied down.”

 

Dean rolls his eyes and elbows Cas a little, and Cas laughs like it tickles and shies away. “You wish you were getting tied down, Ash,” Dean says.

 

“Whatever, man,” Ash retorts, and continues talking about his imaginary not-girlfriend.

 

*

 

Chuck still isn’t home, so Dean’s spending another night in Cas’s bed. The clock next to Cas’s bed glares 2:26 at him violently, but he just can’t sleep.

 

For how cuddly Cas can be, he almost never lays like this: the little spoon. It’s how Dean likes to sleep most, Cas totally safe ensconced in his arms. Cas’s bony ass pressed up against him isn’t too bad, either. But mostly it’s the safe and sound thing.

 

So many things are out of his control with Cas, but right here, like this, everything is okay.

**Author's Note:**

> i know the part where dean describes all the things he's done with "tits," i kind of felt like i went a little bit overboard, but then i thought about the stuff i did when i was fifteen, and it kind of aligned. i also wanted to show that dean likes to kind of live on the edge for his age--sneaking into a bar, for example, but everything kind of revolves around cas.
> 
> as always, feel free to leave comments and/or kudos if you like :)


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